I spared him all I
could. A dozen times we saved each other's lives."
In six words Desiree could have told him all she knew: that he was
a spy who had betrayed to death and exile many Dantzigers whose
hospitality had been extended to him as a Polish officer; that
Charles was a traitor who had gained access to her father's house in
order to watch him--though he had honestly fallen in love with her.
He was in love with her still, and he was her husband. It was this
thought that broke into her sleep at night, that haunted her waking
hours.
She glanced at Louis d'Arragon, and held her peace.
"Then, Monsieur," he said, "you have every reason to suppose that if
Madame returns to Dantzig now, she will find her husband there?"
De Casimir looked at D'Arragon, and hesitated for an instant. They
both remembered afterwards that moment of uncertainty.
"I have every reason to suppose it," replied De Casimir at length,
speaking in a low voice, as if fearful of being overheard.
Louis waited a moment, and glanced at Desiree, who, however, had
evidently nothing more to say.
"Then we will not trouble you farther," he said, going towards the
door, which he held open for Desiree to pass out. He was following
her when De Casimir called him back.
"Monsieur," cried the sick man, "Monsieur, one moment, if you can
spare it."
Louis came back. They looked at each other in silence while they
heard Desiree descend the stairs and speak in German to the
innkeeper who had been waiting there.
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